The Inundation and Alteration of Gravity Falls, Ore: A Monstrous Tale
by stormblossom
Summary: After Greg's death, Wirt's fragile mental state became too much for his parents to bear. He's sent to a backwater town in Oregon to 'take his mind off things', but Gravity Falls is anything but relaxing. Wirt will find love, pain, and a new pair of wings, LITERALLY, when he and Dipper get tangled up in something simply... monstrous. (Monster Falls AU,Wendigo!Wirt, Cervitaur!Dipper)


Wirt McLoughlin stared wistfully out the grimy bus window, the seat leather uncomfortably hot on his legs. Trees passed by in a blur, shades of green shifting rapidly from one to the next, dappling the sunshine, and sometimes causing him to squint from the harsh light.

It had been nearly a year since his traumatic experience in the Unknown and the death of his younger brother, Gregory. Nobody believed the story, or any of his theories on what had happened to them. There were no marks on Greg's body, no water in his lungs.

Wirt blamed himself.

His already fragile mental state had gotten worse. He was anxious 24/7, suffered from night terrors depicting the Beast transforming Gregory into an edelwood tree and he only spoke with a stutter. He blamed himself for his brother's death, and so did his mother and stepfather, though of course they didn't say it out loud. His mother was reminded of Wirt's father too much, and his stepfather had never cared for the boy.

After only a few therapy sessions and a scar on his wrist, Brianna and George McLoughlin-DeMayo had decided that professional therapy was too expensive and a waste of time, so as a unanimous decision, they shipped their remaining son to a backwater town in Oregon for _two whole years_ to 'take his mind off of recent events', and do some internship thing. He hadn't been paying much attention to the last part, though.

Too preoccupied with the 'being sent away for two years' bit in their spiel. 'Fresh air' and 'change of scenery' and all that stuff that Wirt thought that was a whole load of fresh steaming bullshit.

He took a sip from his water bottle as the vehicle slowed to a stop in a dirt clearing out the front of a rickety wooden cabin. Wirt trudged off the bus and stretched his legs, then surveyed the house.

Atop the mossy-tiled roof, a large wooden sign proclaimed 'MYSTERY _HACK' in faded red letters, the 's' lying facedown on the roof below. Next to that, an oval board read 'World Famous', and an arrow pointed to the gift shop. Behind the shack, a stern-looking totem pole glowered at Wirt from above. He couldn't help but feel a little creeped out. _This _was where he'd be living and working for the next two _years_?! With a deep breath, he stepped inside the gift shop.

"H-hello?"

A young woman with long, red hair behind the counter glanced up from her magazine briefly. "Hey."

"Um. I-Is this where I can- I can find a Stan... P-Pines?" He couldn't remember the last half of the name, and assumed that a nickname would suffice.

She adjusted her tattered trapper's hat and looked up with interest. "Which one?"

"Um, s-sorry, what?"

"Stanley or Stanford Pines?"

"O-oh…"

Wirt withdrew a crumpled piece of paper from his back pocket. It read the name _Stanford Pines _in sloping green ink.

"S-stanford."

The girl looked positively spellbound now, her eyes lighting up with excitement.

"Ooooh! You're _that _guy!" She stuck out a hand. "I'm Wendy." He nervously shook her proffered hand and smiled weakly. "Wirt."

Wendy cupped her hands to her mouth and yelled "DIPPER! THE GUY IS HERE!"

Footsteps clattered down a rickety staircase, and a boy of about fifteen ran around the corner and skidded to a halt. He looked at Wirt, and blushed heavily under his mop of curly brown hair. "Hello! I'm Dipper Pines. Nice to meet you." He stared up at Wirt with determined brown eyes and placed a baseball hat with a logo of a tree on top of his head.

"My uncle Ford's away for a few more hours, but there's an interesting geological anomaly above the valley he wanted me to investigate, something easy to get you started… after that, I can show you the alien spacecraft or those douchey unicorns…" Dipper trailed off, flipping through a large, leather-bound book as he wandered towards the exit and into a wall.

Wirt was dazed. _Geological anomaly? Alien spacecraft? Unicorns? _

"Um. W-what kind of apprenticeship is this? I-I don't-" Dipper turned.

"Oh god. Did- did your parents send you here without telling you what we do?" he asked, covering his mouth.

"Y-yes."

"Jesus. I'm sorry, dude. Ten years is a long time."

"_Ten years?!_ T-they said… two."

"Come on. It's okay. Come with me. We'll work this out. For now, we have a weird-ass river to find."

Dipper and Wirt trudged up the hill towards the forest, sweating profusely.

"W-where are we going, Dipper?" Wirt managed, taking off his sweater and wrapping it around his waist.

"There's a hidden river next to the reservoir. Grunkle Ford said it flows in a large loop and attracts magical creatures, but he didn't have enough time to investigate it more or get a water sample."

"What do you mean, magical creatures?"

"Y'know, unicorns, manticores, the gnomes… Gravity Falls stuff!" Dipper grinned and passed him the book he had been reading earlier. Wirt almost dropped it; the journal was very heavy. On the battered cover was a golden six-fingered hand, with the number three thickly painted in the center. He opened the book and stared.

Detailed entries on mythical creatures such as ghosts, faeries, and things Wirt had never heard of jumped out at him, the yellowed pages crunching under his fingers. "This is…"

"All real," Dipper confirmed with a grin. "And you see all these blank pages?" He flipped to the back. Most of the pages were untouched and bare. "Today we're going to fill one!" He blushed, hugging the journal to his chest.

"We're nearly there!" Dipper pointed, and Wirt, with a new sense of purpose, followed him into the trees, allowing himself a small smile. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.

"We're here!" Dipper announced, running into a clearing.

Wirt gazed around in awe.

They were standing near the cliffside that led into the valley where the town stood. A metre-deep chasm cut through the soft, dewy grass, as inside the fissure, the rapids turned the crystal-clear water to foam, flowing in rivulets over jagged black rocks downstream.

It smoothly bent upwards from deep in the woods, then zoomed back into the forest again. The water sparkled and roared in the moonlight, blocking out the sounds of the forest at night.

"Sorry if it's not that interesting for your first time…" Dipper said sheepishly, head down

"Dipper, it's amazing!" Wirt exclaimed.

"_Out of the depths of endless despair, I have found a friend to aid,_

_At eventide in the pine-strewn thicket, I feel I need not be afraid._" he breathed, taking in the cool night breeze, then felt Dipper's eyes on him, listening to his poetry.

"I-I-I'm n-not—"

"Wirt! That was beautiful," whispered Dipper. "You need to write this stuff down!"

"Uh, I- We- we should sample the water now, r-right?" he managed, blushing a violent scarlet.

"Oh! Yeah! Let's do that!" the other boy yelped, withdrawing a small glass vial from his satchel.

They approached the tan clay bank, Wirt shyly standing about a metre away, holding the satchels they had brought with them. Dipper leant over the edge, vial in hand.

"I'll get a sample, then we'll radio Ford about our location," he explained. "Can you draw the river in the journal?"

"O-okay." Wirt said cheerfully, flicking on a duct-taped flashlight, pen poised above the paper. "Dipper-"

Suddenly, a violent cracking sound echoed around the clearing.

Before either boy could register what was happening, the chunk of earth where Dipper was kneeling had splintered apart and tumbled into the water, dragging him along with it.

"_Dipper!_" Wirt yelped, dropping everything and racing to the edge.

The water steadily pulled the desperately thrashing boy along as he tried to keep up with him, racing deeper and deeper into the woods.

Dipper screamed in agony, like the water was… _hurting _him, Wirt thought. Before his eyes, his friend's head bashed against a jagged black rock, rendering him unconscious. Blood stained the bubbling white foam the color of wine. "_No!"_

As soon as Dipper's blood was spilt, the water seemed to grow, swelling like a tumorous lump of flesh, and bursting in violent waves above the treeline.

Within seconds, it had spilled over the bank in every direction, draining over the cliffside and into the trees. It wrapped around Wirt's ankles knocking him over. He screamed, digging his fingers into the muddy ground, trying to escape the water's icy grasp.

But it was no use.

Flailing and screaming, Wirt was plunged into the deep, forbidding rapids, pitching backwards as that same water fell in rivulets down the cliffside, delicately dripping into the town reservoir.

Every molecule in Wirt's body felt like it was on fire.

He was being morphed, twisted, viciously pulled apart cell by cell and pieced back together.

His brain overloaded with pain more fierce than a million stars going supernova all at the same time.

He wanted to die. He welcomed death with open arms.

The world was so, so, cold, and Wirt was so, so tired of it all.

_I'm sorry, Dipper,_ he thought, letting the water fill his lungs and tear him apart from the inside out.

He shut his eyes and slipped into the warm embrace of oblivion.

̶̧̢̫̗̦̲̯̟̠̠̤͓̞̳̝͈̦͎̳̝̻̗̎̈́̋͒̏̊̀̐͂͂̋́̚͘̕̕͠͝͠** ̸̢͔̗̼͚̭̝̣̙̒́͌̏̋̌̉̍͒͋̑̅̈́͒̿͊̀̿̔ ̸͉͍̰͒̿́̃̌̐͗̎̑͋͗̎̚̕͝͠͠͝ ̷̢̧̜̟̖̙̲͈͇̩̤̪͙̺̻̘̬͇̝̳̥̠̤̦͎̱̬͍̰̱̏̽̐̋̑̾͂̒̔́́͐̇̃͋͋̒́̽̀͛̈̽̈́̔͂͘͝͠͝ͅ ̶̡̢̡̱̞̝̳̗͈̝̠͚̳̜̳̒̓͋̂͊̽̓̃ͅṯ̵͖͙̞̖̫̎̿̾͜b̸̡̡̢̠̥͕̹͙̞̱̱̻̝̗͙̙͕̺̻̙̹͔̺̜̺̺͉̠͎̳̑̂̅̈́̍̿͜͠͝k̸̢̨̨̨̧̛̛̮͓̣͚̘̞͎̝͈̹̗͖̩̦͓̟̮͔̥̲̱̘̂͂̽̑̆̾̔̎̾̈́́̿̇́̋̈́̅̽̀͐̐̐̓̎͊̅̆̚͘͜͝ͅa̴̬̺̭̣̦̫̙̺̣̜̪̞̠̩̯̱̳̗̺̤̲͌́͒̎̐͋͑͆̒̊͌̂͑͐̄͆̍͋͊̈́͗̒̌̈́̚̕͝͝͝͝f̷̨̡̢̛̛̪̼̰͕̻̩̯̻͚͈͚̣̹͚̗͎͖͎͕͈͍̐̓̉̎̓̓̊̋̏̃̇̈́͊́̈̾̅͘͘͝d̴͕̋̓̎̏͒̃̾͗̃̊̇̃̽̿̿̆͝l̴̨̨͔̭̞̫͉̠̻̼̞̘͖̼̙̤̱̰̣͉͎̙̣̓́̅ ̷̢̢̰̺͉̞̠̲̬̜̻̮̗̙͈̫̠͕͓͎̬̬̖͙͇̣̣͖͇̖͂̎̑̃̑̅̂͑̐̍̑̓̈͆̉́̌͐ͅä̵̢̡̙͙̥͈͚͓̗͚͙̜̞̘͉͖̙̺͙͚̥̞͈̫̯́̉̿̈́̋̇͊̉́͛̈́̉͒̏̏̓̍̄̊̚͘͝͠ờ̴̰̒̓͐͂̌̒̒̈̆̈̈́̇̌̀̓̀̄̾̑̋̈̃͘͠͝͝b̵̛̛̛͓̩͓̬̪̏̆͆͒̒̔̋̃̃͒̂̏̐̈́̍̃̏͛̄̐͒̾̃̃̈́x̷̨̧̧̨̨̦̺͉͖̟̯͔̱͎͉̠͓̱̺͓̥̩̼͙̠̻̙̝̦̞̝͛̀̌̈́̈́͗̿͛̽̐̇̀̓͗͊̑̐̋̀̏͘̚͝͠j̴̡̧̨̮̰͓̰̯̠̠̦̗̝̲̥̮̲̝͖̗̺͎̟̻͔̰̣̒̈́̅̀̓̂̏͒͛̆͐̈́̅̓̈́͘͜͝f̴̨̢̛̱̗̱̱̖̜̩̳͖̮͇͙̖̖̰̻̖̦̩̻̹̮͔̟̹̫̮̍͑͐̎̊̒͐̂̈́͊̌̈̑̿̒̋͋̕̚̚͘̕̕͠ͅͅk̵͙͕̻̲̦̳̙̺̱͂d̷̡̢̻̥͍̫͚̲̠̪͉͚̐̐̽͂̄̀͐͑̌̕͜͝͠͠ ̶̣̅́̑̑̕̕̚̕͜ ̵͖͓͚̥̝̮̣̲̲͈͂͆̓̂͆́̓͑̾̃̍̋̕ͅ ̴̧̲̲̪̝̼̬̾͂̇̅̀͋́͌͛̇͒͋͛́̇̌̍̂̀́̾̉̇̈́͛͛̓̕͜ ̵̛͓̫̼͚̺͎͍̪͚̭̥̠͇͎͔͖̤̣͙̳̬͔͓̖̻͕͚̏̌̋̿̎̆̓̐́̾͂̊̄̐̓͋̀̀̑̽̔̀́͘̕̚̚͜͝͝͝ͅ ̴̯͐̈͘ **


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